"I DON'T WANT TO GO TO THE BEACH!," yells the younger one.
"I'M BORED," yells the first sitting in front of the blaring television.
"I gotta go," their mother explains.
The older sister has a birthday party and there are groceries needed to restock the shelves but mostly, I think, my wife needs a little time to herself.
She and the older sister leave.
I'm left to "parent" alone ... without adult supervision.
They're still arguing about whether or not to go to the beach.
"Hey," I offer, "y'all work it out and let me know."
Popping a beer, Goddess and I stroll downstairs to the porch and turn on the football game.
No sooner than I'm interested than the one who didn't want to go to the beach strolls down in her bathing suit saying, "I'm ready."
She climbs in my lap to watch the game.
The one who did want to go to the beach meanders out later.
"Get a towel," I tell them.
"Where are they?" they simultaneously ask having no clue how clean towels magically replace wet ones on the floor.
"That way," I point and they get their towels.
Arriving at the beach, one wants to swim and the other wants to build a sand castle and both want me to help.
Adjusting the ear buds while turning up the tunes on my I-Pod, I offer, "Y'all work it out and let me know."
Listening to Michael McCloud music, I glance up to see an intense sand castle competition taking place. Both are looking at me ... saying something ... so I give them the thumb's up sign.
When the songs are done, I stand up and stretch, ready for a swim.
"Who won?" they ask at the same time.
"I think Laurel takes the 'Most Ambitious' category," I reply strolling towards the ocean, "but Cass definitely wins 'Most Creative'."
The both applaud.
I hit the water and Laurel joins me.
"There's Jellyfish," Cass screams. "I'm not swimming."
"Whatev's," I say, diving deeper.
Before I can dive twice, Cass is sitting on my shoulders.
"OUCH," I scream. "JELLYFISH! JELLYFISH!!!"
Holding me tighter, realizing I'm lying, she laughs.
The three of us spend a delightful half-an-hour playing together in the Sea before I say, "Time to go."
"We don't want to go," they scream in unison.
"Tough! We gotta help your Mom unload the groceries."
"Awe," they sigh.
Making our way to the crosswalk, Cass spies a feather in the sand, stops the World from spinning to pick it up and takes it home.
After unloading the groceries, picking up the several dozen wet towels it takes for two small girls to use after the beach, I'm sipping wine on the porch watching football when Cass interrupts me.
"Here," she says, handing me the feather and a shell I'd given her weeks ago that she now believes she found on her own. "These are for you."
We went on to have a nice night, though everyone was Sunday night exhausted, dreading Monday morning obligations.
Working now, I glance over at the feather and the shell, which I've now placed beside me on the Beloved Back Deck ... and they make me smile.
The ocean breeze picks up and carries the feather back to beach.
In no time at all, the girls will be gone ... like my kids are gone ... and it'll only be Sarah and me.
In the meantime though ... the girls are a lot of fun!
Especially when I'm left to parent alone without adult supervision.
